Night Walker
by Good Luck Mode
Summary: AU between Barnaby and Tomoe. They bump into each other on the street; beginning a very rocky relationship, which builds up into a strong trusting one. RP log, so frequent change in POV
1. Chapter 1

Maybe she'd gotten too comfortable with being out at night again.

Something was irking her, making her uncomfortable. She had to brush it aside. She was a tough woman, and there was nothing a little nighttime sight seeing was going to do to hurt her.

She hopes.

Her pace quickens unbeknownst to her, hands working on pulling up the length of her dress to keep herself from tripping. She just wanted to get this over with, after a long day of nothing it was difficult to find a place to stay where no one strange could see you and often she was left wandering around late at night — she hated this.

She'd receive the occasional odd glance, those people could see her, were wondering why she was wandering around like she was about to be married; but she always tried her best to ignore them and often succeeded in such by burying herself in thoughts.

Tonight was no different, just a means to pass the time and distract her from what she disliked. Rounding a corner she immediately stumbled back. She bumped into someone, and out of reflex, she apologized whether they could see her or not.

Why did it seem like the days were getting longer? He was exhausted: every muscle in his body screamed for rest. He had been on his feet nonstop all day, and the last time he remembered sitting down was during his lunch break. Over ten hours ago. His job was exhausting, sure -whose wasn't? - but, he needed to keep it. It was the only way he could find the answers he so desperately craved to know. This reason, this fact, kept him from losing his sanity.

He was on his way back to his apartment. It was late, the temperature dropping a degree every minute. His cold fingers were stuffed into his red jacket's pockets as he tiredly trudged on home. Everyone who walked past him looked the same: drained and humorless, devoid of any vibrance. That's really what everyone was at the end of the day: a slave and victim to their desires. Their desire to learn, to succeed, to grow, to love, to hate, to harm. How everyone went about achieving what they want varies, but in the end, everyone's just tired.

Barnaby heard hurried footsteps, but thought nothing of it. Until that person crashed straight into him. A flutter of skirts and dark hair flew back away. A girl. Upon further inspection: a woman. A very pretty one, to boot. She was suddenly apologizing, and he shook his hand for her to stop while he adjusted his skewed glasses. "I should have stepped out of your way. It's my fault. Don't worry." His sheepish smile, he hoped, was enough to convince her that he really meant it.

"No, no it was my fault, I wasn't looking where I was go-" She took in the sight of him. He's that hero she'd been seeing all over screens and billboards beside her husband. What was his name again… B… Barnaby Brooks Jr? A poster plastered on the far wall did help her confirm that, saving herself of the embarrassment. "I um, again I'm very sorry…" She looked around nervously before turning back to him. "I didn't hurt you did I?"

He shook his head. "The real question is if you're okay." This woman looked absolutely frazzled. A bit of guilt started to form in his stomach, because it was probably his fault for making her this way. He sighed inwardly. Like he needed to start a guilt trip on top of all his other stress. Despite that thought, he couldn't help but have his thoughts drift back to her. She had been running before they collided. Was she in danger? "Are you being chased?"

"I'm fine, don't worry about it." She smoothed out her dress and fixed her hair for a moment, eyes glancing around once more. People were starting to give Barnaby weird looks — of course he must look like he's talking to himself, and that's a bad wrap for a person such as him; she had to make this quick. "Chased? Goodness no. I just… don't like being out at night and I'm trying to find a place to stay…" The last of her words faded out and became quiet, hues glancing down.

"A… a place to stay?" Out of everything she said. Those words stuck on him. Was she homeless? Her appearance suggested otherwise: she was clad in nice clothes, her hair was shiny, clean and kept. Her perfume, from this distance, was gentle and floral. Definitely not the signs of poverty. Barnaby's eyes narrowed in thought; there had to be a reason why she didn't have a place to return to at this time of night. He couldn't help his suspicions growing, but they weren't so strong for him to just let her go on her way. "Do you need somewhere to spend the night?" It didn't matter that he was a Hero. From her facial expressions, she didn't let on that she recognized him. So, she didn't seem like a threat. So what harm would she cause in his apartment?

"I couldn't possibly do that… Barnaby; that'd really be wearing out my welcome quickly." She was relieved that he offered her a place — but staying with the King of Heroes? Kotetsu's partner and best friend? Of course her husband hadn't seen her, but it'd be bad if she were there and Kotetsu came over — the hero would look crazy. "I don't want to cause you any unnecessary trouble."

_Barnaby…_He grimaced when he heard his name roll off her lips. He had never revealed his name to her. So, his identity wasn't so secretive after all. Still, despite her knowledge of him, he still couldn't just leave her by herself on Sternbild streets in the dark. That went against his personal code of chivalry. Blond looks shook with his head, and he replied, "No trouble caused at all. I'd be worried the whole night if I knew you were alone out here all night. I wouldn't be able to sleep."

She saw the grimace right after she'd mentioned his name. That was probably a mistake, but despite that, he still welcomed her into his home. Why? She was a stranger wasn't she? She could be some homicidal NEXT for all he knew. Yet, his hospitality and worry made her smile.

"Okay…"

He was relieved that she didn't protest too much, because he was too tired to try to persuade her. The fact that everything was going easier than planned was like having a small weight lifted from his chest. A sleepy smile later and he was resuming his trek back to his apartment, with the girl now in tow behind him. Where would she sleep? Barnaby's foggy brain decided that she'd get his bed, and he'd take the extra futon in the closet. He hoped that… that… His mind drew a blank for her name, and he suddenly felt sheepish when he realized that he never did ask for her name. Stifling a yawn -how impolite of him- he questioned her. "What exactly is your name?"

It took her a moment to get it through her head; she had to follow him of course. How else would she get to his home. Her foot steps were silent, for there was nothing on her feet to make noise, like his boots would or another person's shoes would.

Tomoe made sure to stay a few paces behind him, but not so far away that she'd lose sight of the tall blond. He seemed tired, his stride lacking what someone his height would normally take — she wondered if he was alright; but maybe it should be herself asking that same question. His voice made her stiffen, made her wonder if he _knew_about her from Kotetsu, but Kotetsu wasn't the type to just talk about things that hurt him.

"Tomoe…. Kaburagi Tomoe."

His footsteps stopped suddenly. No. That wasn't right. The name fit though. It was the same last name as his partner. She had the same name as his deceased wife…the same description, the same warm personality… No, but it couldn't be. She had died years ago… right? Barnaby turned around, his face gravely seriously. "You're not married, are you…?"

If she'd not been paying attention she surely would have bumped into him after stopping so abruptly. She tried to mask her nervousness, push it down so that it wouldn't all come up as one big mistake. Easily, she slid her left hand behind her back, trying to hide the ring that so clearly matched that of her husband's.

"I…" She paused for a long moment, avoiding his gaze. "…was."

Scruples were forming in his stomach, his body starting to tense up, preparing for anything that might be in store. Peridot eyes narrowed, he struggled for words. This- _This was __**Kotetsu's**__ Tomoe._There was not a single doubt in the blond's mind that this woman had been the one that his partner fondly talked about, the wife that had him on the brink of tears when he was drunk, the person who he had created his child with. Barnaby felt sick all of a sudden. "You were married to Kotetsu, weren't you?"

She backed away from the blond — she didn't know what he was going to do, but something told her that she wouldn't be staying anywhere safe tonight. He'd probably already rethought his decision and didn't want her there, in his home. The man would probably shoo her along to Kotetsu, where she should be, or worse call him out.

She just didn't want to put Kotetsu through that pain.

"Please don't call him… I… he can't…"

"Why are you here? You're supposed to be _dead._" He couldn't understand why she had bumped into him tonight. He was angry, not at her, but because it was her. Why had she suddenly returned to Sternbild, come back to life? How could she do a thing like this, and why couldn't it be his parents instead of her? It was unfair, so fucking unfair, and Barnaby just didn't know why it had to be. Did every deceased person have the chance to come back? Then why hadn't they come back… Frustrated tears pricked the corners of his eyes, and he tried to swallow the lump in his throat. He didn't need to be feeling this. Not now.

She didn't know she could feel so unhappy to be in the presence of someone she just met not ten minutes before. It was almost as if he was blaming her for something she had no control over.

"It's not like I chose this!" She snapped and completely regretted it afterwards. He was crying. Why? It was her fault wasn't it? Her hands tentatively reached out for him, taking a step forward.

"B-Barnaby… I'm sorry…"

"Don't." He stepped back and glared at her through his teary eyes. The outlines of her body bled together with the city lights, making her more surreal than she already was. He refused to be comforted by a dead person. "Just tell me why you're here." His voice cracked halfway through his words, and he used every ounce of willpower to not start sobbing. Thank God, it worked. Once he lost his composure, it never came back too easily.

Tomoe retracted her hands, brows knit together tightly. She didn't know what to do, this wasn't like comforting a hurt child — this was a full grown man trying not to lash out at her.

"I don't know… I don't know." She said, all attempts at trying to make eye contact with him useless.

"How do you not know?" Those words took him by surprise. Barnaby wiped the tears out of his eyes, and looked at her. Really looked at her. She seemed to be admitting the truth. But, even if she was, how was that possible?

"Are you… alive?" He wondered if she had a pulse, like him. If her heart forced blood through her body, keeping cells alive to serve all of her body's functions. Did she feel pain? Could she eat? Could she breathe? Barnaby had so many questions to ask, so many flooding his unstable mind.

"I just don't know." She frowned, "I woke up in the same room I died in. That's what I remember from coming back here." It was the truth, and nothing but.

"Alive? Goodness no, I'm still very much dead — although I have minimal brain activity it seems. I'm more or less like a protozoan."

"So, what were you doing on the streets? Were you going back to see your husband?" His anger was dulling into something that wasn't quite compassion, and not yet pity. He couldn't imagine what this was like. After being dead so long, and then to come back to the world that you had departed from with no warning… She didn't seem to want to go see Kotetsu, so what was she doing? Was she just going to walk the streets alone, like so tormented spirit not able to find peace? Barnaby shivered. How lonely that must be…

"I can't…" Her eyes finally tore from the spot on the ground and looked up to him, filled with a guilty sort of sadness. "I've already tried." Weight was shifted to the opposite leg anxiously, eyes wandering again in thought.

"Doing on the streets? It's not like I have a place to go; I just wander around until I can find some sort of shelter." She looked up at the end of her sentence, a bright light flashing through dark and ominous clouds, the beginning sounds of rain taking over the city. She twitched as one fat drop landed on her cheek and then another, but even that left her unfazed as she lowered her head and gaze to look at Barnaby for any kind of response.

Barnaby exhaled slowly in an attempt to deflate himself from all of the stress and anxieties that filled him. It didn't work, not that he really was expecting it to. He nodded tiredly at Tomoe, and beckoned her to follow him. "You're coming home with me, then." He didn't exactly understand what she meant when she said that she tried (unsuccessfully) to visit her husband, but he didn't want to question her further out here. In the comfort of his own apartment, with a warm cup of tea in hand, was how he wanted to proceed this interrogation. He started walking, hoping that, like the rest of the ghosts that haunted his life, she would follow.

She tilted her head to the side, hesitantly following him after his instruction. The rain began to fall harder as time passed, and she quickly huddled at the blonde's side rather than staying behind a few paces. He didn't seem to be very affected by the weather, even without an umbrella. The man had such a stern face on, very unlike all of the posters and billboards, magazine articles and interviews he was seen in smiling cheerily. Perhaps it was just a mask, a bandage to hide the hurt underneath. Even still, the side that no one saw was a surprise — not unpleasant but not wanted either.

The silence was becoming unnerving, and she wondered just how much longer it would be until they got to his place of residence. Their hair was mopping wet, his pants had gone at least two shades darker from the rain, while her dress — unfortunately — had gone see through. Wonderful.


	2. Chapter 2

The rain, fortunately, was not felt too much longer because they reached his apartment complex. Riding up the elevator in silence, Barnaby kept his gaze trained in front of him constantly. He didn't give Tomoe a glance; he couldn't allow himself to do so until they were inside and comfortable. He needed to have a 'home field' advantage while dealing with her. She, or her situation - the blond couldn't determine, had a very profound effect on him. She undid him at the seems, and could make his snap with just a few well-planned words.

Something that Barnaby was not in the least bit thrilled with.

Once he unlocked his door and led them both inside, the young hero went straight to the kitchen and started to boil a pot of water for tea. He was going to need some chamomile to calm his nerves. While the water was heating up, he collapsed onto the single chair in the main room of his apartment and started to unlace his boots.

He still had that stern face on. Did she really unnerve him so greatly? She'd told him that she had no choice in the matter of coming back, it just happened; so why did he feel the need to internally take it out on her? At least she believed this is what he was doing on the inside.

She felt uncomfortable in her sopping wet dress; it stuck to her skin and had easily become heavy with liquid, trailing a line behind her like a snail; and if she stood in his dark apartment any longer with it on, she'd surely soak his floors. She really didn't know what to do in the situation; he'd disappeared, leaving her feeling welcome yet at the same time very unwelcome.

She jumped at his return, glued to the spot she was on and watched him remove his boots slowly and silently. What should she do?

He moved his pair to his closet, with the rest of his shoes. Barnaby saw her, just standing there, drenched in rainwater. The many droplets now covering his floor made his brow knit in annoyance. She needed dry clothes, but more importantly, he had to clean his floor. "Let's get you out of that dress."

He went into his bedroom for a second time, and after a few moments emerged with some fresh clothes: a pair of boxers, slippers, and a plain white t-shirt. He didn't have any feminine articles because he had no need for them. He showed her where his bathroom was and asked, a bit awkwardly, "Do you need any… undergarments? I can go out if you do, because I don't own any that are appropriate for you."

She gathered the fabric, heavy and awkward as she followed him to the bathroom. "I, uhm… I'll be fine. I won't be bothering you for too long." She managed to get out as he handed her the clothing. Nodding her head was the only thing she could offer as thanks before he turned and left her, the door closing. The wet garment was shucked immediately, exposing her nude form that was underneath. She slipped into his t-shirt and boxers, and shimmied her feet into the slippers.

She left the bathroom after hanging her previous attire over the tub to dry — at least some.

She didn't want to face him — he was annoyed and it was plain to see. Regrettably she shuffled back to the main area and saw him mopping up and all she could muster was a guilty frown.

"I'm sorry… I'm really causing you more trouble than one should…"

He sighed as he stood up, inspecting the floor. Deciding his job was adequate, he washed his mop and placed it back in his closet. "It's fine. Really." Barnaby hung up his leather jacket and sighed, rotating his shoulders and cracking his neck. The tea kettle whistled. "One moment, please." He came back soon enough with two cups, and handed her one. His eyes scanned his empty apartment, wrinkling his nose in thought. "Let's talk in my bedroom, that way we both can sit down."

She followed wordlessly behind him, sipping the tea gently as a means to calm herself down.

"Talk?" She asked, curious as to what he meant. There were a lot of things they could talk about but she knew it wouldn't be that — it'd be a deep, in depth discussion about whatever was bothering him. She shuddered; she didn't like that thought.

His bed was exactly as he left it that morning; neat. Nothing had wrinkled the bedspread and nothing had done anything to signify that anyone had been in the apartment since Barnaby's departure this morning. It made him feel empty, really, but now wasn't the time to dwell on such petty thoughts.

Barnaby sat down at the end of his mattress, nursing his chamomile tea exhaustedly. He brushed his bangs back, and looked at Tomoe head on. This whole situation had to be resolved now, if not soon, because he didn't know how long he could handle this type of stress on his own. If things couldn't be figured out, he knew that he would crumble inside and confront Kotetsu, the only person he could confide in. And, according to the 'ghost' in his bedroom, that was not an option. "What are we going to do about this?"

"About what?" She asked, genuinely unsure of what he meant. "About me being here? I already told you… I have no clue, I have no answers for you." She looked down for a moment, "I can't answer questions you don't voice, so tell me what's on your mind." She took a deep inhale of the tea sitting at chest level, sipping on it while patiently waiting for some kind of question from him.

"Tch. This whole ordeal is bound to give me a headache." He idly combed his fingers through his curls, sighing with the frustration with the situation. What was he going to do about this? If he let her stay here, issues were bound to arise. They always did. If Kotetsu visited his apartment -something he did on a regular basis- the old man would get this smug look on his face when he saw female clothes strewn around and question him about the mysterious girl until the cows came home. He couldn't hide this ghost in his closet forever. But, what was he to do? It wasn't his problem, it really wasn't, but the principles his parents had instilled within him were strong. He couldn't just kick her out…. "But, you need a place to stay. So, I better stock up on Advil."

She sighed herself, finishing off the drink before it completely cooled off. "I appreciate your hospitality, but I assure you I won't be bothering you to the point of constant headaches." It was a tough decision for him to make, but a part of her was glad that she didn't have to wander the streets anymore. She still only felt troublesome to the blond. "I'm sorry you're stuck with this old lady." She offered him a small smile, thumb rubbing the cup idly.

_Old lady._ Barnaby's eyes widened a bit, and his face was overtaken by mild surprise. She and Kotetsu were almost one in the same; their personalities, their expressions, and even their speech were close to identical. No wonder they married one another.

For some reason unknown to the blond, he found himself smiling.

"I'm sure we're going to make the best out of this."

He was smiling. Was it something she said? It must've been. Her lower lip jutted out into a pout, brows furrowing neatly but only momentarily. "Yes, of course we will." Her tone was a bit proud, and if she had her glasses on at that moment, she would have pushed them up the bridge of her nose.

He swallowed the rest of his tea down. It was the strangest thing. He actually believed in what they had said. Things didn't seem so bleak or ominous in that moment; he was too content to be apprehensive right now.

His hand covered his yawn apologetically. "I'm exhausted." He briefly wondered, as they locked eyes, if ghosts got tired.

"Then you should sleep, right?" She titled her head to the side, expression forming into one of concern. He did look quite tired, she knew the physical extremities one put on them self day-to-day from being a hero — taking care of Kotetsu had given her that insight. "Or perhaps a bath? It'll keep your muscles from cramping up, and you won't be as sore tomorrow."

A bath did sound lovely, but that was almost unthinkable at this point. Barnaby felt as if he didn't have the strength to even walk to the bathtub. Shaking his head, he half groaned-yawned at her, his fingers tiredly rubbing the muscles in his left forearm. "In an ideal situation, that'd be what I would do. But I just don't have the energy." Even the thought of changing into his pajamas, brushing his teeth, flossing, and crawling back in to big seemed to be too much for him to fathom doing now.

She nodded, noting to herself momentarily that there was a lone lounge chair in the middle of the next room, with a large window to view the city from to boot. She'd most likely spend the night there.

"I'll let you sleep then, so please don't worry about me — I won't do anything to your apartment while you're sleeping, I assure you." Offering a quick smile, she stood and soundlessly traveled the length of his room, stopping at the doorframe before speaking once more, "Goodnight,"

A slight groan was his response. Barnaby attempted to drag himself out a bed, and the experience of trying to budge his exhausted muscles was awful. But, he persevered and managed to drag his ass out of bed and into the bathroom, where he slowly did his bedtime routine of brushing and flossing his teeth. After he had finished, he trudged back into the bedroom, stripped down to his boxers, and collapsed. He didn't give the woman wandering his apartment a second thought as his mind shut and body shut down, and he was consumed in the sweet embrace of sleep.

She disregarded the sounds of him shuffling around his room, occupying herself with gazing out over the city from the apartment's large window. Nothing structurally had changed in the last eight years — perhaps only minimal, and so minimal she didn't notice straight away. Her thoughts quickly wandered onto how much she missed everything about this city, how much she missed her family, how much she missed Kotetsu; and before long she was caught up in hours of endless thoughts while looking through that same window and still managing to find something different to look at.

Sighing, she turned to look over her shoulder, mentally noting how comfortable that lounge chair seemed now in the dead of the night, and her assumption was nothing short of correct as she laid back in it and slowly drifted off.

A series of beeps and buzzes jolted Barnaby out of his slumber. He sat up quickly, his sleep-ridden eyes frantically searching his bedroom to find the source of the incessant noise. It then dawned on him that the commotion was coming from his wrist.

It was his call band.

_Shit._ Barnaby groaned in annoyance, not looking forward to suiting up and chasing blindly after some petty criminal, and answered and silenced the obnoxious sounds with a tap of his index finger to the band. A woman's voice was on the other end, the softness of a French accent coloring her words. Agnes. "Mr. Brooks, are you awake? You haven't answered your phone all morning." He heard her sigh on the other end. "That isn't like you at all." She then went on to explain that there was no emergency, no call to action. It was merely a check up call. Barnaby tiredly thanked her for her thoughtfulness, and with a deep 'goodbye' from his husky, sleepy voice, hung up.

His fingers plucked his glasses off his nightstand and adjusted them on his face. A moan breathed through his lips, as he slowly began to process of waking up. Ugh. He never woke up this late. _10 AM late._ The day was looking bleak already, and Barnaby hadn't even brushed his teeth yet.

Admittedly, Tomoe had been up for hours now. She didn't need to sleep that much, or rather she didn't want to. Her eyes had slipped back open only two hours after shutting, so around 2 am. She was wide awake after that and had spent her time watching the city slowly awaken hour by hour. She was fine letting him sleep in as much as he wanted, time seemed to go faster when you were deceased. Finally however, she heard him stir; his voice low, scratchy and weak from not being used from the other room. She'd recognized the beeping of his call band, one that was all too familiar first thing in the morning.


	3. Chapter 3

There was no point in staying in bed any longer. He rolled his shoulders, cracked his neck, and got out of bed. Barnaby exited his bedroom and made his way to the kitchen, yawning into his hand. In order to get to his stove to turn on his tea pot, he had to cut through his main room. When he did so, he nearly jumped out of his skin.

_Why was there a woman in his ch- __**Wait.**_

Dammit. He had forgotten about her.

He adjusted his glasses on his face, and stared at her helplessly, tiredly. "Good morning…" He greeted her not too cheerfully. His hand went to rest on his hip, but when his palm touched bare skin, he looked down and was greeted with only a pair of boxer briefs on his body. Ugh.

She frowned at this less than happy tone; but it was more than understandable - he'd just woken up, to a call no less. Shifting her weight in the chair and moving forward, her feet touched the ground and she effortlessly hoisted herself up, smiling. "Good morning."

His brief inner chiding at his appearance went unobserved by the brunette; she didn't mind, they were both adults and it's not something she hasn't seen before. Tomoe waved a hand, brushing it off and meeting him at his side. "If you want, I can make you breakfast."

Barnaby was about to protest, but then he shut his mouth. As much as that was unchivalrous to make a lady cook for him, a part of him believed that it was oddly fair. He was letting her stay in his home. A ghost: not just any, but the wife of his partner. She was certainly more trouble than she was worth. Whipping up breakfast was a small price to pay for his 'hospitality', right?

His brow knitted together, and frowned. That was rather rude of him to force her into this. He shook his head. "You don't have to. I can make something for the both of us; just tell me what you want."

"No, I insist." She stated cheerily, taking a step forward. "You go get dressed, I assume you don't have much time because of your call?" The brunette noted, turning to face him with a questioning expression. "Ah, you're not allergic to anything, are you?"

"No, I'm not." His eyes narrowed suspiciously. He was about to question how she knew he had gotten a call, but then it suddenly dawned on him that she had been married to a Hero for years. Barnaby cracked his neck again, and further went on to say, "And I don't have to go. It was a checkup call. I normally don't wake up so late in the day, so my superiors were worried. I can make my own breakfast: it's fine." Not that he really wanted to start cooking, but he still felt obligated to say that he would. It just didn't bode well with his pride to force a woman into such stereotypical tasks. Besides, he was a grown man. He had been looking after himself for years without an adult to pamper him: he didn't need to start having one now.

"I see, then I'll let you to that." She sighed in response, turning on her heel. The unwelcome feeling was still settled in her stomach, and she didn't know what she could possibly do to tide that feeling. Briefly, she wondered how her husband put up with this person — he seemed to only do things because they were right, not because of some other moral compass. It was going to be a long, long time before either of them truly accepted the other. She inwardly chuckled at this, remembering just how long it had taken Kotetsu to accept the blond, and just how hard it seemed for the latter to do the same for the former.

It felt almost like a broken record.

Scratching at his neck, he padded into the kitchen silently to unenthusiastically attend to breakfast. As he was picking ingredients out from his refrigerator for the omelette he had spontaneously planned on making, he decided that he had no choice in whether or not to cook the woman breakfast. Sighing, he fried up a pair of green pepper, mushroom, and cheese omelets for them. After he finished setting the table, he poked his head into the main area of his apartment, and said monotonously, "Breakfast's ready."

She returned to the chair, staying ominously silent while he worked in the kitchen. It smelled good, it did, but when he appeared with two plates, she couldn't help but frown for a moment, standing. Being dead meant she wasn't required to eat — she could if she wanted to, but it didn't really benefit her? "Oh, thank you." Nonetheless, she came over to the table in the next room, and sat down. "You really didn't have to go to all of this trouble, Barnaby. I appreciate it though."

"It really wasn't any trouble." His reply was not as cheerful as she may have wanted it to be, but he really wasn't in the mood to be entertaining guests and putting on his fake smile just yet. He poured himself a glass of orange juice and passed the carton over towards he side of the table. He began to eat. The omelette wasn't his best work, but it was fine. His gaze never left her: he observed her as he chewed and swallowed, trying to figure out exactly what he was going to do with her. Last night, before he passed out, he had sounded relatively optimistic. That was exhaustion talking. Now, when he was fully recharged for the day, reality came crashing down on him.

"Am I interesting to watch?" She asked, taking another bite of the egg. She eventually grasped the carton, and poured her glass; replacing the cap. Staying silent was her only option, and apparently his as well; he didn't seem like the type to talk, which was strange from what she always saw around the city. He seemed like the typical celebrity type.

Oh well, she'd have to deal with it — she told herself that her situation now was a lot better than always looking for somewhere safe. Sighing, she reached for her glass, downing the juice.

"Thank you for the meal." She said, pushing back from the table without another word.

The dead look -no pun intended, he swore, was making him feel worse than it should have. Why did she make a ball of guilt form in the pit of his stomach? It made absolutely no sense. Barnaby remained at the table, picking at his eggs with relatively no interest. "Yes. You are." The cold glass touched his lips as he took a sip, his expression monotonous. "I'm sure a lot of people would be fascinated if they had a dead woman in their house."

"I'm glad to be a source of entertainment for you then." She mumbled almost sarcastically, leaning against the counter. She shut her eyes, head leaning back in idle thought as she waited for him to finish. Various thoughts led her to think of how things were before she died, before she got sick — how her and Kotetsu were planning on having another child.

"Yeah, and most people would want me gone. Bad omens, y'know?"

He shrugged at her reply as another forkful of eggs were put into his mouth. After he swallowed his mouthful, he folded his hands below his chin and sighed. "Well, there really isn't much that I can do about this" He finished up the remains of his breakfast and started to wash the dishes. While drying and putting them back into the cabinets, he continued, "You're here, and that's how it is." Once he was done, he turned around, and leaned against the counter, watching her. "You need things, like clothing, don't you." He already knew the answer to that.

"You don't have to go to that trouble, honestly." She sighed, rubbing her forehead. "I'm dead, it's not like I can soil my clothing in anyway. And wouldn't that cause a rise in suspicion if Kotetsu came over and saw female's clothing?" The woman turned, the kitchen door sliding open as she drew nearer; turning her head over her shoulder. "Look, I'll leave you alone to do whatever. I'm sure there's better things out there than staying at your apartment — I'll sleep or something."

Barnaby frowned. "He doesn't dig around in my drawers. I'm sure that a few things wouldn't be too difficult to hide from him." He went into his bedroom to get ready for a shower- he was very tempted to take her up on her offer. Sitting at home with someone he wasn't too fond of didn't sound like the idea of his perfect day. Taking a change of clothes with him, he waltzed into his bathroom. Before shutting the door, he peered out at her, with a bemused look. "Then again, you were married to him. Is he the kind of person to go through other people's things?"

"Not really, but if I happened to leave something out — unlikely I will because I was a mother, always picking things up…" She rambled on for a moment, stopping herself as she realized it was all useless information for the blond. "Pardon, I rambled on. Go do what you were going to." She sauntered back to his lounge chair, laying back and staring up at the ceiling.

He would have preferred if she hadn't talked to him in that kind of fashion, but he let his retorts stay within his head and out of the air. He locked the bathroom door- just in case, because he was still uncertain about trusting her, and hopped into a welcoming and warm shower. Once he had finished, he dried himself, his hair, and changed into his regular get-up- his olive pants, and a black v-neck shirt. Barnaby emerged from the steamy bathroom and put his old underwear into his laundry basket.

"You're really going to sleep? What did you do last night?" His eyes narrowed as he questioned her. Really, how could he not be suspicious?

"Nothing. I slept for a couple hours, then just watched the city wake up, until you woke up." She answered honestly, fiddling with her hair — thinking of a subject change. "I know you don't like me." Even if it was less than cheery. "So let's drop the act shall we? I've pieced together enough to know that you're not the same as when you're at work, so don't force yourself to act nice when you seem to dislike it."

Excuse me?

She wasn't exactly making it easy for him to genuinely like her. So, now, he was being reprimanded for being civil with her? It made no sense at all to him. It made even less that Kotetsu had loved this woman enough to start a family with her.

Barnaby grimaced. "Drop the act?" He couldn't believe what he was hearing "If we're dropping niceties, then I want you out of my apartment."

"I can do that." She said flatly, standing from the chair. "Excuse me and I'll change." It took her a few minutes, but she returned clad in her white gown walking passed the blond without another word — closing the door behind her just as silently.

She wanted to be away from him as quickly as she could, even if it meant being homeless again. People that acted differently or hid their true colors annoyed her, and from the moment she'd figured that out, she knew it would be a bad situation for them both. So for the sake of the man rather than herself, she made herself look bad to get out of his presence and leave him alone — he'd earn no benefit from her other than a headache.


End file.
